


If These Floors Could Talk (the Epistolary Reprise)

by dancinguniverse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4181565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinguniverse/pseuds/dancinguniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy's first day at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If These Floors Could Talk (the Epistolary Reprise)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Teddy’s First Letter from Hogwarts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/804722) by [Sandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandel/pseuds/Sandel). 



Teddy wobbles getting out of the boat, and a giant but familiar hand grips his entire shoulder. "Easy there," Hagrid rumbles, and Teddy smiles up at him. Hagrid beams down. "Have a nice ride, then?"

"It was great!" Teddy enthuses. "Everyone saw me off at the station, and I met some other kids, and a lot of them are named Harry, which is funny, isn't it? Is it time for the Sorting yet?"

"Yeah, almost there. Yer not nervous, are yeh? Don't be scared! Nothing to fret about!" 

"Why would I be scared?" Teddy asks. He's genuinely unsure, though fear seems to be a recurring theme with the first years. On the train, he'd heard one student proclaim their worry over being sorted into Slytherin. Only the next car down, he had met a girl nearly in tears over the idea of being sorted into Hufflepuff. Teddy doesn't quite understand. Between Gran, his parents, and Harry's disparate Sortings, it isn't as though there's even been an expectation, let alone pressure, over which House he would join. Speculation, of course. Endless speculation. But no pressure. Teddy's imagined himself in every House, as his family shared their favorite stories, many of which took place in the common rooms only available to one's chosen House.

(Maybe not Ravenclaw, Teddy used to thinks sometime, usually to himself. It's not that he thought he was especially un-clever, but he's rubbish at riddles, and he'd rather be out in the yard, playing Quidditch or even feeding the rabbits than stuck inside with lessons. He thought Ravenclaws were supposed to enjoy lessons more. But he voiced this one time while Luna and Neville were over to dinner as well, and Neville had laughed. "I don't think that's true," Luna had offered, in her soft voice. "I do like riddles, I suppose, but I think Ravena would welcome anyone with an inquisitive spirit." Teddy had mostly just finished eating his broccoli, but he'd reconsidered his thoughts on Ravenclaw as well.

"Oh, I think yer godfather was shaking like a leaf!" Hagrid chortles. "Nothing to fear, though, nothing to fear. Come along now." Hagrid sweeps up a dozen other first years in his enormous armspan, guiding them up the path toward the castle.

Teddy's been hearing about Hogwarts since he can remember, of course, but he's never been to the castle grounds until now. He bounces a little on his toes as they approach the tall wooden doors.

The other first years burst into whispers and chatter when the doors to the Great Hall swing open. The high ceiling is everything Teddy's imagined and more — like there is no ceiling at all! — but he can't help his eyes skirting to the far corners, to the professors' front table and under and over the keen-eyed interest of the older students. The Hall is huge and impressive and once he's inside, he feels quite small. He hadn't expected it, but over all his excitement and his family's happy stories, suddenly he's overwhelmed with the realization: This is where it happened.

This is where his parents died.

Despite the hushed chatter of the students seated at the long tables, the brilliant gleaming of the House markers, the warm flickering candlelight and calm regard of the professors, the great hall seems suddenly very large and very empty. Sounds echo a little, and in the corners and the shadows and the small echoes, Teddy feels the weight of all his family's stories, the bad as well as the good, pressing down on him. And for a moment, none of Ginny or Ron's laughing tall tales, Luna or Hermione's secret and endless histories, Harry or Neville or his grandmother's quieter but still fond reminisces are enough to overcome the single pervasive story woven throughout his whole life — that this is where his parents gave their lives.

Another first year elbows him in the back, and Teddy realizes he's stopped walking. He hurries forward again, joining the awkward shuffle. Most of the first years are captivated by the Hat, waiting for them on a stool that a short witch in professor's robes brings forward. A few are still staring at the ceiling. Teddy studies the floor.

The stones are worn from years of travel. There are no rough edges to show where Unforgivable curses marred its surface, no chips in the stones to show where dark magic was performed. The walls, too, are strong and unbroken, the windows heavy and flawless. But he knows this was a battleground, the greatest of all. He doesn't want this place, so magical and so eagerly anticipated, to look like a graveyard, but it's like the battle never happened at all. Where did his parents cast their last spells? There's no indications at all.

His gaze wanders back to the front table, and he finds Neville giving him an encouraging smile. Teddy tries to smile back, but he's not sure he quite accomplishes it. Neville frowns at him a little, and Teddy shakes his head, looking away. He doesn't want the other students to think there's anything amiss, as they surely will if the Herbology professor comes over to check on him. Hagrid, now also seated at the main table, is beaming at him, unaware that anything might be amiss. It settles Teddy a little.

The Hat is brought out, and Teddy swallows. He's been so excited for this for so long, and now that the big moment is here, he wishes they could be done already. He's fairly sure his parents didn't die in a student's dorm room. Here, in this giant space so clearly made for huge deeds, seems more likely, and therefore more unsettling.

The Sorting Hat sings its song, and when Teddy tries to recall it later, he remembers it only as a lighthearted jingle of mostly nonsense about flying or digging or slithering or striding toward academic success. It isn't much of a distraction.

The headmaster calls out Allan, Grace and Batey, Ryan: both Ravenclaw. One of the Harrys steps on Teddy's shoe, and he doesn't hear the name of the first new Gryffindor of the year, only that table's loud applause and whistles. "Oh please," Harry (Jones?) mutters under his breath.

Teddy studies his profile. The boy is clearly nervous, eyes wide and lips pressed close together when he's not whispering to himself. Teddy leans in. "It's okay," he says softly. "They're all good."

"But I'm named after him," the boy whispers back, anguished. "I have to be in Gryffindor."

Teddy pauses to clap as Gellar, Ellie strides over to the grinning table of Slytherins. "He wouldn't care," Teddy confides. "I know him."

Harry looks impressed, and then suspicious, and then his name is called, and he ends up in Gryffindor anyway, and walks away looking very relieved. 

Teddy smiles, shaking off the gnawing concerns about his parents, and then it's his name being called, and he has to stop himself from rushing forward. The Hat is quiet for a moment, and then it murmurs in his ear, just as he was promised. 

"Ah, plenty of options, if you really wanted," it muses. "But as you don't seem to care, you make it easy to decide HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hat shouts the last word aloud, and Teddy pulls it off, grinning. His mother's House!

The students rise to meet him, cheering, and he gets a few pats on the back and handshakes as he makes his way to an empty seat. 

He's caught up in excitement that doesn't relent until after breakfast the next morning, when he's skirting around a walking suit of armor with a group of fellow first years, looking for Potions class. Perhaps this hallways is a little lighter or dimmer than the last one, but again, he's struck by the memory of his parents. Was it here? Was this knight, even now excusing itself and backing onto its pedestal, too busy protecting students to warn his parents of the curse that took their lives? Did they throw their own spells from these windows, or out into that courtyard? 

"Hurry up, we'll be late!" Tanya urges, pulling on the sleeve of his robe, and Teddy makes up his mind. 

That night, he writes Harry. Harry was here when it happened. He knows he should write his Gran, tell her about his first two days, tell her he's having fun, he's Sorted and sorted, he's making friends. But instead he pulls out ink and quill and paper, and starts his letter, "Dear Harry." 

But when he looks down at a letter that says only, "Do you know where exactly my parents died?" he realizes he can't send it, and he scratches out the words, and then throws the whole letter into the fire. He wraps his quilt around him and sits back on his bed. 

He starts again. "Hello Harry!" This time he tells Harry about his day, thinks about Ginny reading it too, and whether they'll read it to Albus as well. He tells them about all the other Harrys, and about the Sorting, and he thinks this one is okay. He rolls the paper, and sets it on his desk to send first thing tomorrow. 

 


End file.
